They don't taste like they smell

Coagulation of senses comes with interesting nuances. It could make things complicated to human brain, yet there lies its supremacy.

In Surfeit, walks out

A damsel, on a sunny day.

Looking in dismay,

A trash-can she sees.

 

A few steps closer,

Yet she can’t wait.

Yes, the taste buds

Have a say, In

What comes its way

 

Expelled from the taste zone,

Lands those eschewed specs

On the delicate kissable palm.

 

The lass amassed,

A halo cloud of aroma,

Too bound to sift,

A spice store.

 

In every life, they dwell.

Anomalous to perception,

They don’t taste like they smell.